Wednesday and Thursday nights, I had the same dream. Or maybe they were visions coming to me in my sleep. It didn’t really matter what I called them.
This dream was different from dreams and visions I’d had. This time I could see my attacker. I watched him walk toward me. He smiled. Even in my vision, I could feel my heart dance at the sight of him. Love, and maybe a little lust, filled me, and I felt my lips curve into a smile. He was gorgeous. Sexy. Smart and funny. Almost perfect. Except for the one thing he dreamt of doing—was going to do. He held out his arms to me and I walked into them willingly, even though I knew he was as dangerous as the demons in Hell. Maybe more so, because even though I knew I shouldn’t trust him, I did.
I breathed in his scent. Clean and outdoorsy. I weaved my fingers through his silky hair, my other hand massaging his shoulder. He tensed under my touch.
“I’m sorry, Milayna,” he whispered against my ear, his breath fanning against my neck, wisps of hair tickling my skin. He placed a kiss on the hollow behind my ear.
He pulled back and looked into my eyes. A hand on each shoulder, he gently pushed me until my back was against the wall. His hands glided over my skin softly, gently making their way to my neck.
I dropped my hand from his hair, pushing on his chest and trying to wiggle free. His hands encircled my neck, his thumbs pressing painfully into my throat, squeezing. My head began to pound from the lack of oxygen, and my chest burned. The sound of blood rushing behind my ears was deafening.
Adrenaline surged through my bloodstream, and I hit and clawed at his hands and arms. I kicked at him, trying to break free of his grasp. His hold tightened. Stars floated in front of my eyes. The edges of the room began to darken. The darkness grew until everything but his face was blotted out.
“I love you, Milayna,” he murmured, gripping my neck harder still.
The last thing I saw before the blackness blanketed me was Chay’s blue-green eyes looking into mine as he squeezed the life out of my body, watching me die.
I woke up with a scream, Muriel by my side calling my name.
“Sorry.” I covered my face with my hands.
“Milayna!” My mom burst through the bedroom door, my dad right behind her.
“I’m fine. It was just a nightmare.”
“This makes one every night this week,” Muriel told them, and I shot her a dirty glare. They didn’t need to know the nightmares were as bad as they were. They had enough to deal with without me adding to their stress.
“Milayna, why didn’t you tell me?”
“It’s not that big of deal, Mom. Everyone has nightmares.”
“Still, you should have said something. I’ll call Jen’s dad in the morning and ask him to drop something by to help you sleep.”
Jen’s dad was a doctor. He was also married to an angel, so he knew firsthand what we were dealing with.
“I don’t want anything, Mom. I’m fine.” I didn’t tell her that a sleeping pill would only make the nightmares worse. Staying asleep would let the dream play over and over again. I might not be getting a full night’s sleep because of the dreams, but at least I could wake up and end them. “If it’s okay, I think I’ll sleep on the couch from now on, though. I don’t want to keep waking Muriel.”
“You’re not bothering me. You’ll stay in my room. Do you want to talk about your nightmare?” Muriel asked after my parents went back to bed, and we were lying in her darkened bedroom.
“It’s just the same old stuff. Demons and the pit of Hell, people trying to kill me, you know, standard teenage problems,” I said with a laugh.
“Who do you see?” she asked.
“What do you mean?”
She shifted in bed to see me better. “In your dream. Who’s trying to kill you?”
“I don’t know.”
“That’s funny because you keep calling out the same name every night.”
“Really? Whose name?”
“Chay. You need to be careful. Your subconscious is trying to tell you something. Listen to it.”
“Do you know something I don’t?”
“Yeah. Chay is going to try to kill you,” she said.
***
Friday, our group sat around a table in the school cafeteria during lunch. Chay leaned back in his chair, his legs stretched out in front of him. “Have you had anymore visions? Any of the person trying to kill you?” He poked at his lunch with a plastic fork. Muriel’s head turned toward me.
“Yes.”
His fork stilled for a beat before he continued spearing an unrecognizable lump of mush on his tray. “And? Have you seen the person’s face?”
“Yes.” I studied his face. The briefest flicker of emotion crossed his features. If I hadn’t been watching him so closely, I would have missed it.
“Who is it?” I saw his shoulders tighten. The cords of muscles in his arms constricted.
“I don’t know. I’ve never seen him before,” I lied. His body relaxed, a breath hissing through his teeth.